Oh, General
by ShouldIGetOutandPush
Summary: Han decides to try and prove a point to his Princess, but who will end up learning a lesson?  Post-ROTJ, Oneshot.


(A/N: This was just a bit of silliness that came out of a random conversation with Zyra. Thanks to Zyra for the inspiration and to Hikari-No-Tsubasa for her beta-reading and input. Hope you guys like it.)

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><p><em>Oh, General<em>

Han Solo waltzed into their quarters in his full-dress military regalia, white-gloved and perfectly postured. He began to tug at the fingertips of his gloves, removing them with great pomp and circumstance before ceremoniously tossing them on the side table.

Princess Leia eyed the entire exhibition curiously. She found herself rendered completely speechless by it.

"Good afternoon, darling," he drawled out as if he hailed from the upper garden district of Coruscant and she was his society dame. He plopped heavily onto their conform sofa, stuck his feet out to rest on the kaffe table and continued, "Be a dear and fetch me a whiskey, will you? It's been a _helluva_ day."

She walked around the couch to face him, her jaw hanging open as her only response.

He looked up at her as if startled that she had not scurried off to do his bidding. "Three fingers this time," he elaborated. "Your small hands and all, you know?"

Her eyes narrowed and her mouth began to work. "What the hell are you doing?" She realized how out of sync her language sounded within his farcical conversation. Maybe it would jolt him back to reality.

"What?" He replied, all feigned innocence and confusion.

"This," she said, waving her hand along the length of his body indicating his current attire. "And this." She pointed at the discarded gloves on the table. "And whatever you call that…that," she struggled for an appropriate descriptor and then blurted out, "_garbage_ coming out of your mouth."

"Ah," he exhaled and took his feet off of the table. "You women never cease to amaze me, my dear. Here I am only trying to please you and you can't even recognize my effort."

"Please me? How?" She asked, turning it over in her mind, inspiration dawning on her. "If this is some sort of sexual role playing idea that you got from Lando, you can forget it."

She watched a hint of the scoundrel that she had fallen in love with flicker across his features as he held back an amused grin. "Sexual? No," he replied, dropping some of his accent and placing his feet back up on the table. "Role playing…maybe," he admitted.

"And how is this supposed to please me?" She responded, moving to sit on the kaffe table and slapping his feet back from whence they came.

"Aren't you the one that's been on me about behaving like a general?"

The imaginary glow rod began to illuminate above her head.

He continued, "Always reminding me that I have to set an example and remember that people are looking up to me now?"

"Very funny, but you know that _this_ is not what I meant."

"But it is," he argued and then stood up and made his way to their liquor cabinet. "You told me I had to _watch my language_ and _dress in my Alliance-issued uniform_ and _not get drunk in public_…and overall," he said as he poured his three fingers of whiskey and turned back to her, "act boring."

Leia smiled in spite of herself and then stood up and walked over to him. His fake accent had been totally forgotten and he did look very darn handsome in his dress uniform. She ran her palms up his chest and laced her fingers behind his neck. "I only meant while you were on duty and I thought that all of our…_extracurricular activities_ around here would be more than making up for you missing a few drunken binges with the enlisted men."

"Hmmm, that is a very interesting point. But, what're you saying? You didn't like _General_ Solo?"

She dropped her hands. "If that was your idea of acting like a general, than no. I'd rather a few flushes of embarrassment while out in public with you than to have to live with whatever that was."

He took a sip of his whiskey. "Hmph. I don't know. I was beginning to kinda like the guy. Was thinking that maybe you mighta been kinda onto something."

"Very funny."

"I'm serious," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "This uppitiness thing you got going on ain't so bad once you figure out all the perks."

She let the uppitiness comment slide. "Perks?"

"Yeah," he said, pointing his finger at her. "Like, did you know that a general can cut right to the front of the chow line?"

"You didn't."

"Sure I did, and did you know that if I want a turbolift all to myself all I have to do is wave my hand and say 'take the next one' and bam, no stopping on five floors to let everyone off, I go straight up to the bridge."

"Really," she stated, flatly.

"Yeah, and you know what else?"

"Please, do tell."

"The lower echelon…_smell_, I find." His accent had crept back into play with each sip of his whiskey but his roguish grin gave up his game.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Is that right?"

"Yeah. I mean look at me." He spread his hands out to showcase himself to her. "I can't be rubbing elbows in the turbolifts with the enlisted men coming out smelling like macrofusers and grease. I'm a _general_, for kriff's sake."

He winked at her when he was done and took a sip of his whiskey. She took the glass out of his hand and downed the rest in one long gulp. She then grabbed his stiffly buttoned shirt front and pulled his face down to hers. "You know what? You're really terrible at making a point."

"I don't know. I thought it was pretty impressive." His accent had been replaced by his bedroom drawl and Leia's insides began to tingle.

"Impressive?" She asked. His lips were hovering over hers now. "I think you're being quite liberal with the use of that word."

"Maybe. I think you're just jealous of my genius when I come up with these things" he whispered.

"Genius?" She drew back a little. "Yet another misconstrued use of a word, I'm afraid. What I saw here today, clearly wasn't genius."

He ran his finger along the inside of the collar of her shirt, the skin of his knuckle grazing against her neck sending chills down her spine. "What about the little general I have hidden underneath these clothes? I know that's never failed to impress you."

"Little? Now that's finally an appropriate-"

He cut her off with a kiss...

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><p>Han sat in the windowless conference room and let his mind wander outside of its walls. There was something just not right with not being able to see the sky. Maybe it was because he was a spacer at heart and the open expanse of the universe was life critical to his being, like oxygen to his lungs.<p>

"…and so we extend an invitation to those that have not expressed their intentions…"

Or like Leia - who was currently holding the entire conference room full of politicians rapt with interest - had become an absolute necessity to him, her happiness a precursor to his. He looked around the room. Everyone was hanging on her every word and all he could think about was her hanging on him the night before in a very politically incorrect manner, the recruitment of rogue solar systems the farthest thing from her mind.

"…a series of meetings to outline our charter and tout the benefits of…"

She was so damn sexy when she was riled up with a cause. Sometimes he couldn't decide what turned him on more, seeing her in her diplomatic persona and knowing that he was one of the few that got to see her out of it, or actually seeing her out of it. He shifted in his seat a little and looked around the room again, hoping Luke wasn't anywhere nearby accidentally picking up on his thoughts or something.

"…volunteers to host the visiting diplomats, attend the formal dinners, act as liaisons…"

He leaned back in his chair and smiled, thinking back to his performance the day before, the one he put on _before_ they got to the bedroom. He had thought that maybe he had laid it on too thick at first, after all, Leia hadn't been nagging him all that bad. But later that night, snuggled up next to him with nothing but layers of skin between them, she had apologized for lecturing him on the finer points of becoming a grown up.

"…a minimum of at least seventy-two hours, with some expectations of report writing…"

It wasn't often that he ended up on the top side of an argument with her so he was feeling particularly proud of himself today. Hell, he had even generously agreed to attend this meeting of hers and act like he gave a damn about recruiting unlikely allies and drawing them into the folds of the New Republic. He knew that deep down she liked showing him off to everyone, even if she would never admit it. Why else would she have slyly asked him to come here today?

"…special circumstance visitors, such as the Gungans and if we were to have any Squibs, perhaps…"

He leaned back further in his chair, secure in the knowledge that he had one, tiny princess wrapped firmly around his finger. Yep, he was irresistible to her – the oxygen to her lungs, he mused. As if reading his mind she looked over to him and he winked at her, discreetly of course.

And then she spoke to him. "Does that sound amenable to you, General Solo?"

_Huh?_ He sat up abruptly in his chair. "What was that?"

"Is that alright with you, the way I just described it?"

_Described what? I was just supposed to be decoration!_ Having no idea what she had said, he replied, "Yeah, sure."

"Wonderful. And the points I outlined previously. You'll have no issues with meeting those requirements, correct?"

He shifted in his chair uncomfortably, feeling a roomful of eyes upon him. He could only assume that agreeing with her was his best bet. "Yes, of course."

She smiled and turned her attention back to the group at large. "Great. With that taken care of I'll just quickly recap. You'll all issue your written statements to me at the end of each day. You'll accompany your assigned visitors during their entire visit. Polish up on their cultures before they arrive _and_…get those formal suits and dresses to the cleaners and practice your Coruscanti two-step."

The room erupted in a humorous chuckle and Leia joined them. Han gave a half-hearted effort, just to seem coherent, but he couldn't fight the sinking feeling that he had just been torpedoed. So, it sounded like she had just roped him into being one of her delegates. Well, that wasn't really all that bad; he was probably going to have to accompany Leia to all of those things anyway. The written statements sounded lousy, but he was sleeping with the boss so he should get some leeway there, right? Okay, so he had zoned out and gotten duped into a few things, but all wasn't lost. It was looking as if this meeting was about over and that was a bonus.

"And finally, a _huge_ thanks to General Solo for offering to take on the Gungan delegation. It will take an extra special effort to make them feel welcome but I'm quite sure that he is more than up to the challenge."

_What?_ _Gungans?_ Han's heart sank as his body melted into his chair. _Slobbering, jibberish-talking, isolationists that wouldn't know a good time if it froze their lake. _He watched Leia shaking hands with the departing politicians. _Seventy-two hours?_ It all seemed not-so-palatable now. _Formal attire? Daily reports? The Coruscanti two-step, for Sith's sake? _Leia began to walk towards him now. He recalled her innocent invitation that morning, post-coital and evidently very, very deviously plotted out and under-handed.

He felt her hand run along his shoulders as she walked past him and before she left him, she bent down and whispered in his ear, "Han Solo, volunteering as a Gungan liaison in front of a room full of witnesses? Now _that's_ what I call impressive."

He turned and watched her walk out of the room, too stunned to do anything at all. _Of all the dirty, rotten things._ _Talk about hitting below the belt. Even Lando wouldn't have done something as low as this._ As the entire thing played out in his head, from him popping those white gloves off his hands the day before - to her, here today, knocking him down off of his pedestal – he began to appreciate it for what it was. He certainly wasn't one that couldn't take what he dished out, was he?

Han stood from his chair and brushed off his uniform before heading off to find his clever Princess. He caught up to her at the turbolifts and when one opened, he waved the other beings aside with a stern, "Grab the next one," and pulled her inside with him.

As soon as the doors shut her face split into a humongous smile and she backed away from him, eventually resting against the wall of the turbolift as she pointed at him and said, "You should've _seen_ your face when I said Gungan."

He only nodded at her, allowing her to bathe in her moment of glory as he took a step towards her.

"_Yes, of course_," she said, mocking his answer to her in the meeting.

Reaching her, he pressed his body up against hers, still not dignifying her taunting with a response.

"A girl has to wonder what you could've been thinking of that got you so off task, _General_?" Her eyes were wide with an innocence she no longer had any right to project.

His face lowered to hers, his body pressed against hers possessively. "You're a minx. You know that?"

"I know what I know," she said, lifting her chin like she liked to do. Her voice sounded all at once triumphant and secretive, sure and sultry. "And I know that you love it."

His chin bobbed down ever so slightly and the muscles in his cheeks relaxed. As a gambler he knew when to fold a hand. He smiled. "I do. I really do," he said, before devouring her feline grin with his lips.

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><p><em>Three weeks later, the Grand Ballroom<em>…

The music slowed and General Han Solo rose from his table of Gungan dignitaries and excused himself. Gliding across the slick, smooth floor, he located Princess Leia and invited her for a dance. Hand-in-hand he led her to the middle of the floor and turned to face her. She scrunched her face up and brushed something wet and sticky off of his military jacket.

Visions of the Gungan elder launching an aerial attack of saliva ran through his head. "Don't ask," he told her as she wiped her hand down his sleeve, reaching all the way to his wrist before her palm was sufficiently dried.

"So, General Solo," she said smoothly, honoring his request not to ask. "How're those perks of being a General working out for you?"

If teasing each other hadn't been something akin to foreplay for them, Han would've been more upset. Instead, he smiled broadly and replied, "Fantastic. I can hardly contain…the contents of my stomach."

Leia laughed and let Han lead her around the floor, his moves smooth and natural. After a gentle spin, she came back to him and said, "Your report is late."

"Which one?"

"All of them. Seriously Han, you have been taking notes, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," he replied. "Mesa this and hesa that…I have Threepio on it."

Leia found it hard to get mad at him. She had brought this all upon the both of them, after all. And the Gungan reports weren't that imperative. Although every representative was important, their home planet of Naboo was a charter member of the New Republic and thus recruiting the Gungans wasn't as critical as some other species. But that didn't mean she still couldn't enjoy the fruits of her labor.

She moved closer to Han, pressing her chest up against him. "You know, there are consequences for not following my directives."

He looked down at her, a mischievous glint in his eye, his arm cinching her a breath closer. "If this is one of them, I'll never listen to you again."

"Noooo," she corrected him. "_This_ is one of them," and with a wave of her hand she indicated the whole of his situation and surroundings.

"Noooo," he mimicked her. "From what I remember, I was trying to do exactly what you had been telling me to when this whole ugly thing started."

She seemed to take a moment to digest his words, because she then grew serious and said, "I apologized and I meant it. I love you for exactly who you are."

"Yeah, well. Dealing with these blobber heads, smiling when I want to puke, standing when I want to sit, talking about the advantages of New Republic membership when I'd rather be doing practically anything else in the universe. It's all made me appreciate what you go through on a daily basis."

"But it's my choice."

"Just like becoming a general was mine."

Her eyes softened and she looked at him with a desperate wanting that would've peeled his clothes off if they had been in private. "You make me so happy," she whispered, the words sounding like an oath.

His chest expanded, her happiness his oxygen. "All part of my plan, sweetheart," he said, pulling her back to him so that her head rested against his chest. "That was all part of my genius-ly impressive plan."

Leia closed her eyes and sunk in against him, silently conceding him his point.


End file.
